


This Love is Ours

by watchingfangirl



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/F, but it's really just cute clexa fluff, just a series of clarke and lexa being cutiepies, rating may change later on, the others make brief appearances, this is a continuation of my prom fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-17
Updated: 2016-05-17
Packaged: 2018-06-08 23:44:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,063
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6880414
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/watchingfangirl/pseuds/watchingfangirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I was thinking about you. And us. But mostly you. I'm always thinking about you. Sometimes you even have clothes on.”</p><p>It was scary how true that was. And it was scary how, sometimes, it didn't scare her at all. They were young, and Clarke knew realistically that promising each other things like forever was stupid at this point in their lives, but this was not some silly high school crush.</p><p>She was so screwed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	This Love is Ours

They fall into things naturally - into being together naturally. Almost nothing has changed, and for that, Clarke is equal parts weirded out and immensely happy.

(She guesses that _maybe_ Lexa had a point; they were basically together in all the ways that mattered before anyway. Maybe. But she’s not telling her that.)

Honestly, though, as long as she gets to keep kissing Lexa and gets to call her her girlfriend, she’s good.

And, it’s not like Clarke wants things to be _difficult_ , but she’s more than a little surprised that it’s so _easy_. Things don’t come easy for her, and past experiences have taught her that things that do can’t be trusted.

This is Lexa, though. She’s real, and tangible, and kind, and sweet, and there. And hers. All hers. Even if she does have trouble believing it sometimes. Like now.

They’re laying on her bed; Clarke with a textbook propped up on her chest and Lexa settled between her legs, reading a book for class tomorrow. It’s all so disgustingly domestic that Clarke knows if any of their friends were to see them, they’d be rolling their eyes and making stupid barf noises.

She loves it - loves being with Lexa like this. That for once, she doesn’t have to fight.

Her and Lexa just...are.

“What are you thinking about up there?”

Clarke startles. She looks down and sees Lexa’s nose still buried in her book.

“What?”

“Your thoughts. They're loud. I can hear them down here.”

“Okay, Edward Cullen,” Clarke teases. “I didn’t know you could read minds now. Just let me know if you ever feel the need to sneak in and watch me sleep at night.”

“That's insulting. You're nothing like Bella Swan. And you let me in on your own.”

Clarke thinks about it for a minute while she twirls strands of Lexa's hair around with her fingers. “I was thinking about you. And us. But mostly you. I'm always thinking about you. Sometimes you even have clothes on.”

It was scary how true that was. And it was scary how, sometimes, it didn't scare her at all. They were young, and Clarke knew realistically that promising each other things like forever was stupid at this point in their lives, but this was not some silly high school crush.

She was so screwed.

-

Clarke can't cook. Her idea of ‘fancy’ was actually sitting down to eat instead of standing in front of the microwave, and her usual dinners are hot pockets or pizza.

Clearly, Lexa doesn’t approve.

She wasn't even sure that she actually knew how to turn the oven on. (She knows for a fact that she's never used it.)

Lexa now knows this and Clarke can practically feel the silent judgement coming from her girlfriend.

“Clarke...this is not food.”

And now it's not so silent.

“What else am I supposed to eat while my mom’s at work?”

“I don't know. Something with actual nutritional value? Shouldn’t a doctor’s kid know this?”

“You're making it sound easy, but you've never seen me in the kitchen. We don't get along well.”

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Yes, okay. Go sit down. I'm making you dinner.”

“Aww, babe. You're the best!” Clarke squeals, throwing her arms around Lexa's neck and pressing kisses all over her face. Lexa gives her a quick kiss on the lips, then pats her ass and nods at the bar stools at the counter.

“Now. Go sit. I'm hungry and you're distracting.”

“Yes ma'am.”

Lexa’s cute. She’s always cute, but she’s especially so when she looks like she does right now. All furrowed brows and biting lips and staring at the recipe on her phone like she’s trying to crack a code.

“Clarke, you literally have _none_ of these ingredients. I don’t think I can even improvise with this,” Lexa tells her, sweeping her hand in front of the kitchen cabinets. Clarke just shrugs.

“Told you I didn’t cook. Mom’s usually too tired to do it if she’s home for dinner. Usually we end up ordering takeout.”

Lexa looks even more alarmed.

“You could always…” she trails off, a blush covering her cheeks. “I mean, that’s if you wanted to, of course. You could, you know...come over for dinner at my place. I know it’s not as private as hanging out here, but Lincoln and Anya are hardly ever home anyway. There always at Octavia’s and Raven’s. Also, no offense, but there’s actually edible food in the fridge too. So there’s that.”

Clarke thinks about her options for a second. She’s pretty sure Lexa is offering more than just free dinner and the last thing she wants to do is fuck this up and have Lexa upset with her because she shut her down. And she likes the idea of being around Lexa’s family as her girlfriend. Like, a lot. More than a lot, actually.

She likes it so much that she backs Lexa up into the fridge and goes down on her until Lexa crumples over her into a boneless heap, all blissed out and loose-limbed post orgasm.

Later on that evening after they move things to the bedroom and they’ve sufficiently worn each other out, Clarke mumbles sleepily, “I’d love to have dinner with your family, by the way. In case that wasn’t obvious,” when she feels the girl fumbling around beside her to grab her clothes so she can leave and make it back home in time for curfew.

“Cool. I’ll tell them to expect you this week?”

“Sounds fine.” She’s tired and can barely keep her eyes open. “I wish you could stay.”

“Me too. You look very comfy right now.”

“Text me when you get home, okay?”

Lexa hums her agreement and steals a quick kiss before she goes. “Sweet dreams.”

“Mmm. They will. I’ll be thinking about that thing you did with your tongue earlier.” At that, Lexa scurries out of the room so Clarke can’t continue.  
She wakes up turned on and sends Lexa a few pictures of herself with her hand down her pants and makes sure her girlfriend knows exactly what she’s thinking about.

Yeah. Sweet dreams is a pretty accurate way of putting it, Clarke thinks, then promptly falls back asleep for another hour until her alarm clock starts screeching at her to start getting ready.

Her hand’s still down her shorts when she gets up.


End file.
